Mates of the Broken Hearted
She barked a laugh, sliding into her seat, and I followed her.
The flight was like any other, long, boring, and full of turbulence. It was nice to be back on solid ground again. It was nice until we stepped out into the pickup area and saw who was waiting for us.
Paige leaned against a large blacked-out range rover. Her one arm was tucked across her chest as she looked down at her phone. Her chocolate brown hair was braided back, leaving her sharp features on full display. The setting sun made her olive skin glow and the outfit she wore. The band muscle shirt, the ripped black jeans, and the checkered plaid shirt tied around her waist made me realize how right Irene was.
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